كلمات No Rest

We greet each day with bloodshot eyes The dirt of our labor still clingin' to our hands Filled with our warped intentions The tread of our shoes filled with foreign sands The sun laughs in all our faces It shows a world that we can't save So now, armed with blades in hand We cut a path from birth to grave We don't know where we're going But we know that we're getting there No rest for the blessed Long life for the wicked We don't think like you think And we move like no one moves With a song on our lips, across the land Born to traverse We don't think like you think And we move like no one moves With a song on our lips, across the land Born to traverse We don't know where we're going But we know, we're getting there No rest for the blessed Long life for the wicked Like a car crash Like a landmine Like mixing drugs, we are dangerous Like a snake's tooth Like thin ice Like mixing blood, we are dangerous No rest for the blessed Long life for the wicked